Life's No Storybook
by Dude Lord of Weird
Summary: Drake Parker's life changes forever after one party.
1. Chapter 1

_This chapter contains some not-so-graphic rape. Just so you are warned._

* * *

His hands are rough.

I feel bloated and flat out disgusting as his fingertips roam over my bare skin. He leans over and whispers in my ear; "You are so beautiful." I can smell the whiskey reeking on his breath.

I have never felt less beautiful in my life. I feel ashamed. _Violated_. Home. I just want to go home...I want to strum my guitar, I want to eat a semi-edible dinner with my family, I want to share a soda and an adventure with Josh, I just want to be safe, I want to go _home_-

His tongue trails from my ear down to my collarbone, leaving chills in its wake.

Oh, _God-_ why hadn't I just stayed home?

_"Hey, Drake! Want to go see that movie tonight?"_

_"Nah. I'm good. Party over at Amber's tonight."_

_"Oh. Sounds like fun."_

_"Damn straight."_

_Fun_? Is this _fun_? What the hell had I been thinking?

His lips begin to caress my neck, sending chills down my spine. _No._ This can't happen, it won't- I won't just lay here, defenseless, let him have his way with me-

"Stop," I whisper, and for a moment he does.

He smiles at me, but there's no warmth in his eyes. "You want me to stop, sweetheart?" He licks my trembling lips slowly, an icy mirth echoing in his empty eyes. "Make me," he breathes into my ear as he returns to my neck.

"Help- HELP!"

His calloused fingers strangle the cries in my throat, leaving me gasping for breath. "_Shh_...don't want to make me do something we'll both regret, do you? You just take it, darlin'...just take it."

He lowers his lips to mine, and I gag as his tongue forces its way into my mouth. He tastes disgusting, even worse than Mom's meat loaf. I kind of want to bite his tongue right the hell off, see how he likes _that_- but the thought of having his bleeding flesh in my mouth makes me even sicker.

So I lay there, and I take what I don't want. What I never wanted.

A whimper escapes my lips as he pulls away, and he smiles at me. God, I hate his smile. It reminds me of that stupid cat from Alice in Wonderland. Megan had forced me to watch that so many times when she was a kid, but that cat had always freaked me out.

He reaches for my belt buckle, and something inside me breaks into a thousand pieces. I start struggling again, writhing beneath his legs. He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, leaning his face close. His breath blows hot and moist against my cheek. "Don't fight it, sweetheart. You're just so beautiful. So beautiful...I want you."

I cry. I don't know what else I can do, so I screw my face up a little and the tears come. "Nononononononononono..._no_."

His fist falls on my face, and the force of its impact brings stars to my eyes. "Say you love me."

"No...oh, please, _no_..."

"Say it, baby. Just say it. Say you love me, sweetheart..."

"I-I love you."

It's barely a whisper, and he taps his ear. "Sorry, baby. I didn't catch that?"

"I love you." My voice is dead and only a few decibals louder.

"What was that?"

"I love you," I sob, shaking beneath him.

He is satisfied now. He plants a lingering kiss on my cheek. "Now, baby...you love me. You know what you have to do when you love someone?" I shake my head, and his smile widens. "Why, you have to prove it. When you really love someone, you have to give them all of you. You let them take all of you. Do you understand that?"

I nod, tears still slipping down my cheeks.

"This is love, baby. _Real_ love."

He releases my wrists and goes for my belt buckle again. This time, I don't struggle. Because this time, I understand that I can fight all I want, but this isn't a battle I'll win. He unbuttons my pants and unzips the zipper with care. He slips my boxers off of me next, and he throws my clothing in a heap on the floor, next to my shirt and jacket.

His fingers roam, and I feel all bloated and gross again. I can feel the roughness of his fingertips against the bare skin of my thigh, and I hate it. Oh, my _God_, I hate it.

He lowers his lips to me, but this time, his mouth isn't muffling the whimpers that escape. I can feel his tongue, and I feel so huge, like a beached whale.

I think it lasts for several eternities before he pulls away, and it is over. Or at least, I hope it is. I am trembling, and he looks happy, and he leans close and murmurs, "This is love, baby."

I feel him turning me over, and I know it's not over. Not at all.

"Remember what I said about giving all of yourself to the one you love?" He kisses the back of my neck. "Do you love me?"

"Yes," I whisper. I'm too scared to find out what would happen if I said no. I don't care what he does anymore- not really. I just want it over. I just want to go home.

And then he's inside of me.

It's cold, I'm shivering, and I can't fight. It hurts too much to fight, and _no_, no more pain, please just let me go home, sir, I have a brother who can fix this if you just let me go- I feel like my insides are being torn apart, and I wonder if maybe this is what dying feels like. Your body being ripped apart...

His groans fall on my ears, and please, just let it be over, oh my God, _please_...

He flips me back over, and kisses me full on the mouth. I can taste myself on his lips, and I gag. "Thanks for loving me, baby. It's been real fun."

I just lay there, limp and still in shock over the pain. _God_, it hurts...it hurts so bad, I just want to scream till my throat bleeds.

He's buckling his pants, and he leans over and runs sticky fingers through my hair. "Bye, baby."

And then it's over.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm waiting for 2:00 AM.

He always sets the alarm on his phone for exactly 2:00 AM when I leave to go to a party, because Josh worries too much. He thinks that with me, everything that could go wrong _will_ go wrong. Which I always thought was complete and total bullshit.

I've never been more grateful for Josh and every last one of his neurotic tendencies.

I could just call him. If Josh knew what had just happened, I'm pretty sure he would come. Because Josh would always come for me, just like I would always come for him. It has never been spoken, but it doesn't need to be. We both understand.

My finger hovers over the call button on my cell phone.

But this doesn't feel like any other time I've needed help, because this time...I actually need it. It's not me begging to borrow some cash. It's not me asking for him to help me- I don't know, steal a monkey or something. It's me needing him, and as stupid as it is, I'm not sure if I could handle him saying _no_ right now.

Someone knocks on the door. My blood freezes, and I can't move. I can only watch as the door knob turns, and oh, _God,_ what if it's _him_?

A girl is leading a guy inside by the hand, but once her eyes fall on me, she giggles and blushes. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here!"

The guy flashes him a look that reads both _"I'm sorry"_ and _"I would actually mean it if I weren't so desperately horny."_

The door closes, and they're gone- I exhale. It's 1:27 AM. Just thirty-three more minutes. I can wait.

And my phone vibrates in my hand. Thirty-three minutes _early_.

For a second, I believe there is a God.

"H-Hello?" I whisper into the phone.

"Hey, Drake. Staying the night?"

"Come get me?"

"Drake?"

_"Please?"_ It comes out as a sob- I'm half ashamed of it, but I'm too desperate to care. I want to go home- I just want Josh to come and make it all okay.

"Yeah, of course! Where are you?"

"Um...Amber's house."

"The one we dropped off last week? Alright...I'm leaving the Premiere right now, late shift, so I can get there in five minutes..."

"Thank you," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. "Hurry?"

"Yeah, sure...do you want to stay on the phone with me?"

I do, I really do- but I don't know what I can say. What is there to say anymore? Small talk seems worthless, and I just don't know what I can say after this. Is he even going to want to talk to me when he finds out? Oh, _God_, I know I can't handle my life without Josh in it...

"Drake?"

"Just...tell me about your night?"

So Josh did. He tells me all about how the popcorn machine just wouldn't pop tonight, how some strange man had thrown a Slushee at Crazy Steve, and said man had nearly gotten his head torn off, and about how Helen had caught some employee I had never met stealing money, so they got fired.

I just let myself get lost in the cadence of his voice, letting it soothe me, and take me away to a world where nothing ever happened, and I'm just waiting for a ride home from a lame party from my equally lame (but exceptionally more loved) step-brother.

"Drake? I'm here. Where are you?"

"Upstairs- second door to the right."

I know I should have said that I'd meet him downstairs- the information just slipped past my lips before I could think of what to say. I'm paralyzed again. I just wait for the door handle to turn, and it does.

"Drake?"

I pray that he won't see.

I know that if he sees, he won't think of me the same.

But when he walks into the room, I know he sees.

His eyes wander about the room, taking in the clues. The sheets that are dried with cum and blood. The clothes that are lying in a pile on the floor. The fact that I'm only wearing my boxers and my eyes are red and swollen, and I'm grasping my phone for dear life.

I look away when he starts to look towards me. I don't want to see that look in the eyes. I don't want to see him doubting who I am, becoming dissapointed, like everyone else who had ever loved me had eventually become...

I hear him shuffling around, and I sneak a glance. He's getting all of my things; my clothes, my guitar, even hunting down my stupid guitar pick. Then he picks up a clean blanket and turns towards me; I cast my eyes back down to the dull brown carpet. Can't look at him...not yet.

He wraps a blanket over my shoulders before he pulls me into his arms. As soon as the shock passes, I feel awkward- I've never liked being touched all that much. It's stupid. I know Josh won't hurt me- it's _Josh_, he couldn't hurt a freaking fly- but I still have to stifle that urge to pull away.

"Let's get out of here," he whispers to me after a few seconds, and I just nod against his chest, breathing in that sweet medley of citrus, laundry detergent, popcorn grease, and something just simply _Josh_. I've never loved him more than I do right now, not ever.

He holds me tightly to his chest and guides me down the stairs, past the drunken remnants of the party and through the pulsing music. Then we are outside, the cold of the air stinging my face like a thousand needles, all piercing my skin at once. I shudder and Josh gently helps me into the passenger side of the car before sinking into a squat beside me.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital."

"No! I mean...Josh, let's just go home, okay?"

He nibbles at his lip and studies me. "Drake...you look horrible. I mean...your stomach...and your head doesn't look that great either."

"I just- I don't want to tell Mom and Walter."

"I'll take care of it, I promise. Please, it looks bad, Drake..."

I never could refuse Josh. Not even when he was that stupid little geek, dressing up as Ms Nancy and stealing my bed. So I just nod my head, and I catch a glimpse of a smile on his face as he closes the door and hurries to the driver's side.

He fires up the car and blast the heat.

Finally, for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel warm.


End file.
